A Chance Meeting
by Ana Blackwood
Summary: Corvo stumbles across a courtesan named Ana at the Golden Cat. Nothing stays the same after that and the Outsider makes sure of it.
1. Chapter 1

It happened so fast that she didn't really have time to think and ask questions until afterward.

She had been dancing. The only attire that she wore differently than her fellow "ladies" at the Golden Cat were the satin ballet slippers instead of the heeled boots. She also sang to her increasingly drunken guest:

" _Love is a distant aroma at best_

 _A withering smile that's stuck deep in your vest_

 _At night air it wraps its fingers around_

 _Your body it shakes from the now distant sound_

 _Of the sound of her voice_

 _A sweet symphony_

 _Played over and over_

 _Until you are free—"_

During the next moment, he had seized her and was being extremely rough with her. Normally he'd have been too clumsy by this point to actually hurt her, but when she smelled the whiskey on his breath, her blood had gone cold. This particular regular was always meaner when he had whiskey and he'd had quite a bit before seeking out her company. The bottle of liquor had gotten knocked aside, spilling all over the floor. When Ana resisted, he struck her in the face rather hard. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and traced a line across her now deathly-pale skin into her short raven-black hair. Her dark green eyes were reddened with tiredness and now sparkling with tears. She'd done her best to fight him off, but he hit her again and again. She was dangerously close to blacking out when his hands went to her throat.

Then, all at once, the pressure was released. The baron was dragged backward into the shadows by an unseen person and she heard him gurgle, gag, and then go still. Heart thundering, she sat up, wide-eyed.

The figure stepped out of the shadows and her mouth dropped open in shock. In place of flesh, she saw a grotesque metal mask. Her heart thundered and she only had time to wonder if he meant to kill her or to help her.

Then, several guards came stampeding up the stairs. Thinking fast, she grabbed the scarlet blanket off the bed, threw it over him, and shoved him down. She jumped on the bed with him just as the guards came bursting in. She hoped that the baron was out of sight enough that they wouldn't see him—the drape mostly covered him.

The guard in front stopped abruptly, thinking he had walked in on _something._ Ana was sweating profusely, breathing hard, and the straps of her camisole were sliding down her shoulders. She had just wiped the blood away from her lips clumsily with her hand. Luckily, the light was dim.

"I…uh….beg your pardon," the guard said awkwardly, his face reddening, "but have you seen this man?"

He held up a poster. A strikingly good likeness of the masked man she now hid under the covers was sketched there.

"As a matter of fact, I _did_ see him just now," Ana said, "he went out that window and onto the ledge. If you hurry, you can still catch him."

"After him!" the guard barked, sprinting toward the window. Someone had the discretion to close the door. And Ana had to stifle her laughter in her hands.

"Stay here for a moment," she hissed to the lump under the covers, "I'll go see if they're gone yet."

She hurried out of the bed, almost tripping over the tangled sheets in her haste. Peering out through the keyhole, she watched as the floor grew quiet again. The covers never so much as rustled—she wondered if this "masked felon" that they were chasing even breathed.

She came back and lifted the corner of the velvet bedspread.

"All clear," she whispered, "thank you for helping me. I just wish I knew your name so I could thank you properly."

And for reasons she couldn't explain, she hugged him. It only lasted for a second and he didn't return it. Once he was out the door, he slipped out of sight so quickly that she wondered if he'd been there to begin with. Sighing, she knelt over the drunk baron. With immense difficulty, she hauled him into the bed and covered him up. With any luck, he wouldn't remember what transpired when he woke and he wouldn't come looking for her for a while. She retreated to her own room, listening intently. The guards had dispersed back to their posts. It suddenly occurred to her that the next room over was very, very quiet. She knew that there was a little girl named Emily in there, the late Empress's daughter. Normally she would be pacing around in there out of boredom, singing, or sometimes talking to her mother. Ana tiptoed across the floor and carefully avoided the boards that she knew creaked. Sure enough, the door to Emily's impromptu prison cell was wide open and the girl was gone.

She grinned.

 _I wonder if those two things were related?_ She wondered. She wasn't especially fond of children, but this one had reminded her so much of herself—the dark hair, the dark eyes, and the strong desire to draw (even if it was on walls). When Madame Prudence had refused to bring her food as punishment for her escape attempts, Ana stolen some from the kitchens and the platters laid out for their guests and ensured that Emily had a feast. Besides, she despised Madame Prudence and decided to get back at her in whatever way she could even if it was something that small.

 _I hope you both make it,_ she thought warmly, _Void knows I wish I could._


	2. Chapter 2

Ana was awoken by a strange bluish light. Peering out from under her covers, she rubbed her eyes. She gasped when she lowered her hands.

 _I must be dreaming…_

The ceiling of the room was missing, as were most of the walls' top halves. The door opened with an ominous creak. Ana shuddered violently and wondered if she was dreaming. She _had_ to be. With great care, lest the floor fall out from under her, she got out of bed. Noticing a whale in the distance, she was sure _now_ that she was dreaming. Though it didn't move, it stared at her with its dark, liquid eye. Somehow feeling more naked in her threadbare white gown than in her usual outfit, she crossed her arms over her breasts and turned away. There was an intelligence in the creature's eye that she didn't care for.

She turned—and gasped. Two figures had appeared in the next room. There was Emily huddled in the floor with a stolen charcoal pencil poised over the floor, and then there was the masked man. He was holding his hand out to the nervous little girl. Ana noticed a strange mark on his hand. She waited for them to notice her, but they seemed to be _frozen._

Ana carefully ventured toward him. Suddenly getting an idea, she slid her fingers around the edges of her mask and tried to pull it off. It stayed firmly, not even moving an inch.

 _I suppose I shouldn't expect to know what he looks like,_ Ana thought, _I never saw his face._

She examined the mark on his hand closely. She had seen this symbol _somewhere…_ but she couldn't recall where from. It was the same sensation that one would usually get when forgetting a name. A strange sensation of longing filled her. She yelped when he and Emily suddenly disappeared. Appearing not to notice her at all, the masked man held out his hand. His mark began to glow and in a flash of pale blue light, he appeared on a floating stone some distance away. Ana called to him and sprinted after him, but she couldn't reach him where she was.

 _You'll never catch him that way…_ something said. Ana looked all around, but she couldn't see who or what gave her this thought. She only sensed that it was somehow outside of her.

She looked around again. There were random objects drifting past—a slipper, a scrap of paper, somebody's bitten apple. There were floating rocks that glided past as if caught in an invisible river current. Some of them held still, however, as if suspended on invisible chains. She then made the mistake of looking down.

 _If I fell off, I'd be falling forever…_ she thought glumly, _how am I supposed to follow him?_

As if answering, her own palms began to tingle. She looked down and saw the pale blue light glowing there.

"Wait for me!" she called. The masked man was at least three jumps ahead of her now. Gesturing toward the rock as she had seen him do, she yelled as the whole world blurred past. She felt like a pebble in a giant slingshot. Landing roughly, she hissed in pain as her hands scraped the rough surface of the stones. Dreams weren't supposed to _hurt_ usually…the very real fear that she could die made her heart pound.

 _And then they would dump my body in the river without a second thought….not even a first one, I suppose…_

But the compulsion to follow the masked man pushed her onward. When she nearly missed the last chunk of rock, she screamed bloody murder. When she managed to haul herself over the side, panting heavily, she realized that the masked man was gone. Where he had stood was what looked like a shrine. Laying on top was an ivory-colored object that vaguely resembled a compass—and it was _glowing_ faintly. She picked it up and her palms grew hot. Something seemed to pass from it to her.

 _What in void's name…?_

"Greetings, Ana," a low, dark voice said. Ana yelped in surprise, dropping the compass thing with a loud clatter. Her eyes locked on the darkest pair she'd ever seen—iris, sclera, and pupil were all one black oildrop shine. With a strange visceral fear that she couldn't explain, she backed away from him, palms sweating and heart pounding.

"Do you really fear me this much? Or is that something you've only been taught to do?" he asked calmly, his expression unreadable. Ana felt cold, dizzy, and on the verge of fainting. She felt the edge of one heel touch empty air and realized that there was nowhere to go. One hand reached out and closed around her thin wrist. Though it was the gentlest grip she'd ever felt from a man, it may as well have been unescapable iron. The mysterious dark-eyed man hauled her away from the edge of the rock.

"W-who are you? What is this place?" she demanded shakily, ashamed that her voice cracked hoarsely.

"You knew me once," the dark man replied, sliding his hand down to grasp hers, "but you've forgotten. It isn't simply time that has erased my face from your mind, either."

"What do you mean? I'm pretty damn sure I'd remember meeting someone as…different…as you are," Ana demanded.

"Have you ever noticed that you can't remember anything beyond the last two or three years?"

Ana tried—and realized immediately that she couldn't. All the times that the other women at the Golden Cat spoke of their first lovers and the things that had happened in their childhoods, Ana had never been able to share an experience with them. Worse, it was like she didn't _want_ to think about it. She avoided ever dwelling on the fact that she had no memory.

"You're…right…." She admitted reluctantly, "so until I remember, what do I call you?"

"I am the Outsider, and this is the Void. I brought you here to give you my Mark."

She yelped as he covered the back of her hand in his. At first, his touch was pleasantly cool, but a nasty burning sensation etched across the back of her hand. She whimpered and tried to pull away. When he released her, a strange symbol glowed on the back of her hand.

"The mysterious forces that men call magic will now serve you," he said, "and you can become stronger by visiting my charms in the lonely places. You'll need to collect the runes to increase your power. For the events to come, you'll need as many as you can get."

"But…why? Why pick me? And if you knew me so long ago, why wait until now?" she asked.

"You'll see in the days to come. For now, focus on the masked one. You hoped to find him, did you not? _Now_ you have a way."

She opened her mouth to ask another question, but everything faded into darkness.

Upon waking, she was puzzled. The dream had been so vivid that she was surprised to wake up in her own bed. When she started to brush her hair back, however, she paused in shock.

That Mark was still _there._ Not quite all the way awake, she sprinted to the bathroom and tried to scrub it off. It wouldn't come off no matter what. Her heart began to thunder.

She pointed to the other side of the small room. The pale blue light began to shine from her palm and her mark glowed a pale yellow-orange. She nearly slammed into the wall as she "blinked" to the other side.

 _It wasn't a dream…real….so real…what the…._

She started to laugh and cry at the same time.

 _Imagine all the things I could do with this…_

Shivering, she imagined the looks on their faces, every rich, disgusting baron that had come here to make her beg in her subtle ways for their coins. The men had struck her, covered her in their disgusting essences, and left her exposed to the plague and almost starving to death at times. And the bastards expected her to be _grateful_ of all things. She was tired of living on their mere crumbs.

 _There might be someone who knows him,_ she thought, _or even someone on his List. I can take care of two problems at once…I doubt he's truly working alone. I can find out if they know anything and I can better my situation. I've dealt with the last gilded dung-pile I'm ever going to deal with in here._

She went back to her room. Her possessions were pathetically few. She had a few coins that she'd managed to pickpocket off of the more drunken clients she entertained. The dress that she'd been wearing when she came here was ragged and little better than a beggar's shift, but she put it on anyway. She carefully wrapped her dancing shoes and her coins in a pillowcase and crept quietly down the stairs. She knew the VIP entrance in the basement—she could likely escape out that way without anyone causing much of a fuss. Madame Prudence, she mused, would be furious.

The Outsider watched Ana's progress as she slunk along the streets. After about two hours, the elation and the strange sense of invincibility had given way to a strong depression. She had escaped into the poverty-stricken part of town. While it was a very good hiding place for somebody like her, the stark reality of things began to hit home. It was actually the first time she'd been truly and properly sober in the last three years. Pale and nauseated from the stench of stale garbage and rotting bodies, she had begun to move slowly and her shoulders sagged. She wasn't paying very close attention and collided with a Weeper.

Ana opened her mouth to apologize, but it came out as a choked scream. She panicked and tried to break free of the once-woman's grasp. The stench of blood filled her nostrils and the buzzing of the flies was painfully loud in her ears. A wide gash that was cut across the woman's left cheek oozed with puss and maggots. She shoved her backward hard just before the woman's yellowing teeth snapped closed where her nose would have been. The woman's coordination was slightly worse than a drunkard's and she fell over a pile of debris behind her. Ana willed herself to run away, but her legs were trembling madly beneath the ragged gray skirt. The Weeper made a wet gurgling sound. A fountain of black sludgy vomit erupted from her lips and sprayed the ground only inches from Ana's shoes. _That_ broke her horrified transfixed state and she sprinted in the opposite direction. When she managed to get out of the Weeper's sight, she dropped to her knees. Her breath was high-pitched and sharp, only a step away from outright sobbing. Yes, she had seen plague sufferers in the Golden Cat. But the ones that were obviously infected were sent away long before the disease had progressed that far. She had only ever heard stories about the Weepers. The overwhelming mixture of terror, disgust, and pity threatened to suffocate her. It ended up forming as tears that dripped silently down her cheeks once she caught her breath. When she heard another one shuffling toward her, she hastily left before she could catch sight of it.

 _Second thoughts, I see,_ The Outsider observed, _I wonder what she'll do now that she's been forced to face the truth of how bad this really gets._

Ana willed herself to stop crying.

 _You get out on your own, FINALLY,_ she thought, _and what do you do? You almost get bitten by a plague victim and then you start shaking and sobbing like a baby still in diapers. What would your masked friend think if he could see you now? What about the Outsider? I'll bet he's watching you now wondering why on earth he picked you._

She noticed something…

Amidst the boarded up houses, there was a strange purple light coming from inside one of them. Distracted from her growing well of self-pity, Ana peeked in through the broken window. She recognized that glow from the dream ( _but not really a dream_ ) that she'd had last night. Sitting on the draped cloth was a rune. Black clouds swirled around it in much the same way they had around the Outsider. Being mindful of the jagged shards, she carefully squeezed through the window and picked the rune up. As it grew warm in her palms, something very _strange_ happened.

She could still see the derelict building around her, but there was another image superimposed there as well. Ghostly, transparent, she could see this place when it was bright and new again. A crib stood where the shrine now was in this corner. She saw a baby girl, not yet able to speak, but still very alert and bright-eyed. Her black pigtails, fine and soft as a raven's down, bounced as she reached her chubby little pink hands toward something. At first, Ana couldn't see what she was looking at—there was only empty air. Then, the dark clouds came. Out of them emerged a shape that she was now familiar with—the Outsider. The tiniest bit of a smile played on his lips at this enthusiastic greeting. The baby girl crawled closer, not the least bit afraid of his strange black eyes or pale skin. Her little arms were reaching up for him, asking him to pick her up.

Then, two people appeared at the doorway. One was a tall, slender man with a black moustache and hair that looked eternally windswept. The woman had fiery ginger-colored hair that fell in tight curls. Both of them looked puzzled. Ana instinctively knew that they couldn't see the Outsider.

She blinked and the ghostly images dissipated.

"What was _that_?" she asked out loud.

She almost jumped out of her skin as the Outsider formed in front of her. This one was not transparent as the other had been—this one was real.

"The world has changed quite a bit since you last lived here, hasn't it? And yet we have come full-circle."

He watched her eyes and could see the exact moment that the realization struck her.

"That baby…that little girl that sat just _there…_ that was _me…_ "

The slight ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

"This is the place that we first met," he confirmed, "and though you were so young that you couldn't speak a word, you showed no fear of me whatsoever. Your parents, unfortunately, were not so open-minded. They couldn't see me and it frightened them."

Ana looked down at the rune in her hands.

"I would imagine," she replied quietly, "they looked very worried. But how did I manage to forget them? You would think I'd see them each time I looked in a mirror. Where are they now?"

"Gone."

She didn't like the way he said that. The word _gone_ sounded heavy and dark even in his deep, quiet, melodic voice. There were two ways that a person could say "gone" and this particular tone made it a synonym for _dead_.

" _Gone_ ," she repeated blankly, "for how long?"

"For years," he replied, "they were among the first plague victims. But the Abbey had stepped in before they had even started to cough."

Ana frowned.

"The Abbey…why?"

"The answer to that can be found upstairs," he informed her.

Without really thinking, she did go upstairs. Most of the belongings in this house had been taken already. Broken boards lay in doorways and beneath windows. Someone had tried to seal this place off, but looters and vagrants must have pried the boards away shortly afterward. She found a bed with the mattress laying halfway off the frame. A sickening brown stain was visible on the dirty gray blanket lying bunched up at the end. Ana cringed. She followed the dark smear across the floorboards to the stairs.

 _Which one was it? Never mind…I don't want to know!_

She turned away from the ruined bed and began to search through the dresser drawers and closet. She found nothing.

The Outsider had vanished. _Of course he has…_

She was about to give up when she tripped. Swearing nastily, she sat up and rubbed her knee. After digging a splinter out of it, she noticed that the floorboard was loose. It took a few minutes to find a fire poker, then another few minutes to force the board up enough where she could get the small metal box underneath. There was a coin pouch there, unsurprisingly empty, and a small journal. She blew the dust off of it and flipped it open to the first page.

 _In just a few short days, Ana will turn seven years old. Then she will be old enough for the Abbey of the Everyman to take her in. As much as I'd rather not do this, I think it's the only future she'll have. I can't bear to have her turn into one of those street-corner prostitutes, nor can I bear to imagine her as a common laborer, heavy with child, unable to get enough to feed herself let alone several more hungry mouths. She is a very outgoing child and her beauty is already starting to show. It won't be long before the men take notice of her. I know her mother dislikes this idea with a passion—she's been very vocal about not wanting to send Ana away. But again, we have no choice._

 _The other thing is this imaginary friend that she can't bear to part with. She used to always wave her little hands at something neither of us could see or hear. When she grew older, she filled her room with drawings and paintings of a man with black eyes. At first, we thought she'd overheard someone talking about the Outsider and decided he'd make a good playmate for her little games. There aren't many children around this area for her to play with, after all. But the way she speaks…it's beginning to sound too much like she has an acquaintance with the real thing. If so, the Overseers will have her one way or the other. I'd prefer that she was on the right side of the mask._

Ana closed the journal.

 _I can't read anymore…_

"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded, but only the wind answered. Frustrated, she shoved the metal box and its contents into her traveling bag.

 _So either you can't tell me or you just won't…_

She looked at the empty shrine when she returned back downstairs. There was still no sign of The Outsider.

 _Am I boring you? Is that it? Or are you trying to get me to go somewhere else now?_

She left the house. Though she'd been feeling very sick earlier from the smell, she had gradually gotten hungry without noticing. Now her stomach wouldn't shut up. She felt weak and thirsty as well.

 _I have to find food and water and a place to stay that isn't crawling with rats,_ she thought miserably, _I won't have time to think about all this if I'm dead._

A gurgling moan followed by a shuffle jerked her out of her lamentations. Another Weeper, this one a man, had caught sight of her and was rushing forward eagerly with outstretched arms. Ana's heart began to pound.

 _Another one…dammit…_

She looked up at a balcony. It was too far for her to jump, but just maybe….

WHOOSH!

The Weeper's arms seized only empty air where she had been a second before. Ana was now on the balcony. She began to laugh breathlessly as the poor Weeper looked around, confused, before resuming its depressing trudge along the filthy sidewalk.

 _I suppose that's one way,_ she thought, looking at the faintly glowing mark on her hand, _if they did board up all these buildings to make them inaccessible from the ground, that means I could have a place to stay if I could just keep the rats out. And I know for a fact it wasn't just the poor who caught this dreadful disease._

She looked back at what had once been her parents' house. Maybe she'd come back eventually and fix the place up. Or maybe she'd just raze it. She didn't know quite yet. Deciding to simultaneously test out her powers and scout out a safe place to sleep tonight, Ana _blinked_ from rooftop to balcony to ledge. She finally settled on a modest two-story house that was very clearly condemned but had a paltry two guards pacing around the front and back yards. Both looked bored out of their minds and neither of them looked up.

 _That takes care of the Weepers,_ she thought with dark humor, _and maybe a few thieves as well._

Once inside, she managed to start a very tiny fire in the fireplace. Having not found so much as a saucepan in here, she was forced to set her can of jellied eels right next to the fire to warm it up.

 _I've never been crazy about these nasty things, but they're at least marginally better warm._

Now that her immediate needs had been met and she didn't have to worry about a Weeper or two attacking her, her thoughts turned again to the Masked Felon.

 _I'm no fighter,_ she thought glumly, _and I have a hard time not being seen. About the only thing I'm good at is pickpocketing drunks. I need to figure out what else I could possibly offer him, some way to get his attention. Maybe I can help him find_ me.

She thought about the empty coin pouch that she'd found in her parents' metal box. She doubted that the raiders had found the money—it was likely empty by the time it went in there. The journal would have been long-gone along with the box. The box itself was at least worth ten coins with its elaborate swirled etchings and money was more precious than ever in times like these. People would do anything for a vial of Sokolov's elixir.

Then, her spoon clattered to the floor.

 _That's it…_ she thought, _I can get to places that nobody else can. And the nobles have so much of this stuff laying around that they'll hardly miss it. I can either sell it all and keep the money and split it with him or I can buy up the elixir before the scummy nobles can hoard it and get it to the ones who can't afford it…._

She knew that her desire was based in selfishness rather than any intent to do real good. She wanted to find that man. She wanted to impress him. And if she earned the adoration of some poor gutter-scruffs in the meantime, that was all right with her. And she wanted to see the looks on the nobles' faces when they realized that they only 10 expensive vases instead of 11. It would serve them right for smacking her around so much and for complaining about their wives and husbands while they did it.

 _I've got my work cut out for me, then,_ she thought, _but first, I'm going to need some more runes. I almost fell to my death earlier when I underestimated the distance…_

From his unseen place, the Outsider smiled.


End file.
